


chestnut, amber, bronze or maybe gold

by neesaan



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5904826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neesaan/pseuds/neesaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How unlucky, Kuroo thinks, somewhere dark and shitty in the back of his head. How unlucky that he has to be around when he watches his friends fall in love, watches their eyes light up in understanding, as if every single second they have lived from birth until now has been irrelevant, because nothing has mattered until they loved this person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	chestnut, amber, bronze or maybe gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karasunotsubasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/gifts).



> *bows down apologetically* I danced around the actual pairing because I don't 100% have their dynamic down - this also my first hq fic so who know's where my characterization is even at. 
> 
> For Kat! For letting me butcher your otp, I'm gonna try and fill all of your suggestions. Thanks for helping me out mama ^^

It was strange, Kuroo thought, picking some lint off the side of his pants. It was strange that this how the world worked, that the world was forced to endure this bland concept of monochrome until a soul found its true partner and companion.

Who did the world think it was, anyway? Laying down this rule, this terrible way of living life.

Terrible for him, anyway. Everyone else in his life seemed to be doing okay.

There were his parents, completely head over heels for each other, eyes sparkling in what Kuroo assumed was true love.

For his best friend, it happened when they were eleven. Bokuto and he had spent every day of summer at the park, chasing each other around in circles until they were blue in the face, breath stolen by their youth, and on the last day of August a boy with small hands and even smaller smile said, ‘Bokuto-san,’ and everything changed. Bokuto’s gaze widened in a way that Kuroo had never seen, brow raised and lips morphing into a smile that was as unfamiliar as the stranger himself. At eleven, Kuroo didn’t understand, but at 25 he thinks he does. Akaashi Keji looks at Bokuto like the sun shines out of his ass and maybe it does, and good for both of them.

But somebody else’s love and happiness did not make the day any easier when all you saw was black and greys, muted bland colors that merged together to become an even more bland picture.

Kuroo knew what red was supposed to look like – he even saw it once, the day his mother brought home a kitten with a red collar. That’s what your heart allowed you, permitted you to see – small leaps of happiness that bled through the bleakness of the world’s canvas.

‘Kuroo,’ Kenma says, and he looks up just in time to see Kenma scowl, irritated, video game controller slack in his hand and lips pulled tight into grimace. His eyes are narrowed, identical to the cat on his lap.

‘Ah, I’m sorry. I got distracted. You like winning anyway, don’t you?’ the ‘knock out!’ screen blares glaringly at them, taunting Kuroo for his miserable defeat and he sighs, tossing the controller to the side. Kenma nearly growls but subsides, fishing his ds out of the front of his hoodie. ‘Not like this.’ he grumbles, leaning back and petting the cat absentmindedly.

‘Are you coming with me to that party tonight?’ Kuroo asks, shuffling around shirts in his closet. A darker one stands out to him, so he grabs it, pulls off his old shirt and buttons up the new one. ‘Bokuto is going to be upset if we don’t go, and that’s not something I really want to deal with.’

Kenma looks up, rolls his eyes and nods, resumes smashing the buttons on his game. ‘Akaashi-san can handle it.’

‘Come on. I heard those girls we met last week were gonna be there.’

Kenma’s eyes had widened – he whispered softly that he finally knew what black really looked like, because it was the smooth and shiny and the incandescent color of this girl’s hair. He played it off, acted like he couldn’t be sure, didn’t care either way but

Kuroo knew. Nobody’s face lit up like that for no reason, and Kenma’s face wouldn’t for anything other than that.

Blotches dust Kenma’s cheekbones, coloring his face embarrassed and Kuroo just giggles, ducks the pillow thrown at his head. His cat hisses, diving under his bed.

They drive by Kenma’s house on the way home and Kuroo is his most loyal and the best friend he knows how to be, not even smirking while Kenma struggles with his hair.

∞

Bokuto is there when they arrive, arms flailing, a silent Akaashi behind him, his soft smile apparent even from across the driveway.

Kenma is indifferent around Kuroo, awkward around his friends, weird with strangers and apparently downright terrible with women. He fumbles on his feet, words and eye contact and he keeps doing this weird thing with his foot, like he’s dragging it in circles on the carpet. Kuroo twitches, reaches for him instinctively, because what is a best friend for if it’s not to save you from being a complete idiot in front of a cute girl? At the very least Kuroo wants to pull his hood down, for fuck’s sake he’s almost 25 years old except

This girl is absolutely eating it up. She’s twisting her hair around a finger, gaze caught on the jut of Kenma’s lips and for the love of god, she can’t keep her feet still either. Awkwardly bouncing from one foot to the other, Kuroo hears her soft assent of agreement, watches her nod at whatever obscure indie game Kenma is rambling about. She probably has no idea what he’s talking about, and that’s okay, nobody said love had to be two people who were absolutely matched for one -

‘Honestly, I can’t wait for the co-op. I’ve been playing that game for two years and now that it’s being rereleased with the online multiplayer it can truly compete with other strategy games.’

How unlucky, Kuroo thinks, somewhere dark and shitty in the back of his head. How unlucky that he has to be around when he watches his friends fall in love, watches their eyes light up in understanding, as if every single second they have lived from birth until now has been irrelevant, because nothing has mattered until they loved this person.

It’s the most unlucky thing about his life, he thinks, because if he could have it his way he would have picked to love Kenma. It would have been easy, effortless almost – Kenma is difficult at the worst of times, uncomfortable in his own skin and anxiety unparalleled but he’s Kenma.

It would have been easy, but life isn’t easy and Kuroo knows this, accepts it and moves on, tries to tell himself that color isn’t really that big of deal anyway.

Kuroo smiles encouragingly, pats Kenma on the back and walks away. He shoves his hands in his pocket, dodges the onslaught of people crowded in Bokuto’s home. A game of cards is happening to his right and an old friend from high school waves at him, screams across the kitchen to invite him in. He shakes his head, escapes with a small shrug of his shoulders and moves on, bumping elbows with every step.

There’s a basement downstairs that almost never has anyone in it and Kuroo heads down that direction, figures he can kill some time fishing through some old records. He grabs an old vinyl, the cover of it dusty and worn, so he brushes a hand across it, makes out the title and laughs, happy that some things haven't changed too much and Bokuto still keeps everything he’s ever owned in dusty boxes where anyone can find them.

A door slams above him and he grimaces, mildly irritated he's been found. Knowing his luck there's a girl in the closet and a boy coming down the stairs and they'll find each other right in front of him, see things he can't understand and have eyes and lips and expressions he doesn't think he'll ever be a part of.

'There’s no bathroom down here, what the hell Kageyama?'

Kuroo sets down the album he had been looking at, squinting when the light from the ceiling reflects off it funny.

'Yeah, there's no bathroom down here,' he yells, hoping the stranger will turn around and find what he's looking for away from here. It fails though, because the kid rushes down the stairs, nearly trips over the bottom steps and lands with a crashing halt at the foot the wall.

'WOAH OH MY GOD WOW!' he screams and Kuroo has to duck his head, practically winces from the shrillness of his voice.

Since ignoring him isn't a viable option at this point, Kuroo turns around, prepares a smirk and scans whatever it is the kid is impressed by.

There’s a poster on the wall – it's the cover of an album that Kuroo remembers vividly.

16 is a weird year for everyone and Bokuto and Kuroo weren't any different from anyone else in that regard. In hindsight, it was probably best that Bokuto had found his companion so young. Akaashi kept them in check, ensured they passed their classes and refuted the worst of their really bad ideas.

He was also quite the nerd when it came music and when Bokuto got his license and a car before the rest of them did Akaashi commandeered the cd player like it was his own, and perhaps it was, because Bokuto never touched it no matter how much Kuroo begged.

_There’s nothing I can tell you, you look good when you wear it well_

The kid's staring at it hard, his back to Kuroo and hands clenched at his sides. He’s really excited about something, and Kuroo can see him practically shake, the green collar of his jacket hunched into his ears, like he's getting ready to leap into the air or something. 

'You look a little bit young for this album,' Kuroo says to his back, laughter in his voice. 'What were you, 13 or something-?'

The boy turns around abruptly, a scowl fitted around a pair of large brown eyes that Kuroo is immediately entranced by - soft pools of chocolate and golden weaved into an expression so surprised Kuroo nearly turns around to see what has him so caught off guard, except that he can't, because he's pretty sure he's wearing the same dumb expression of incredulity.

_Wait a minute_

Kuroo knew what brown was _supposed_ to look like. It was on the scale of darker colors. The trunks of trees were brown, leather was brown, and the earth was brown. 

'H-hi! I'm sorry to bother you down here! M-my name is Hinata Shouyou! It's very nice to meet you!' 

Hinata Shouyou's eyes were brown.

∞

‘Come on tell, me.’

Hinata shifts around nervously, reaching to scratch his cheek before blushing an extremely endearing shade of red.

‘Kuroo-san, please stop! You’re embarrassing me!’

‘Come on,’ Kuroo purrs, putting himself in Hinata’s line of sight and brushing the hair from his forehead. ‘Last time, I promise.’

He concedes, barely, picking at some grass and throwing it Kuroo’s face. ‘It’s green! The grass is g-green and your shirt is red and – Kuroo-san don’t laugh at me!’

Kuroo doesn’t stop laughing, and keeps gigging into _his_ lover’s mouth until he’s silenced by a kiss passionate enough to bring color into anyone’s life.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm accepting prompts again! drop me a line at momo-senpaii @ tumblr or find me on twitter @ohneesaan


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